4 Barbie girl

By Monday morning, I’d had enough.

Enough of Savannah’s sharp whispers slicing through every hallway I walked down. Enough of girls bumping their shoulders into mine like I was something they could just scrape off. Enough of finding dead cockroaches in my locker and enough of Ethan’s cool, careless glances that always seemed to say, You’re embarrassing me. If they wanted a villain, I’d give them one.

The plan came to me late Sunday night while I lay awake staring at the ceiling. My body still ached from where I’d fallen on the bottles at Jaxon’s party, and my lips still tingled from the way he’d kissed me in the quiet of his room. I hated that I could still feel him. I hated even more that a part of me wanted to feel it again.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that everyone kept treating me like a joke. And it was time they saw just how sharp the punchline could be. By the time the big football game rolled around Friday night, everything was ready. Savannah and her minions strutted across the field in their short skirts and perfect ponytails, holding bottled water like props in a performance. Little did they know those bottles now carried a very special addition—a generous pour of Brooklax in each one.

It didn’t take long. By the second quarter, Savannah’s forced smile had turned into a grimace. By halftime, she and her friends were nowhere to be seen.

When they came running back across the field mid-play, their cheeks red with shame, hands clutching their stomachs as they scrambled for the locker rooms, the crowd erupted in confused laughter.

That would have been enough.

But I wasn’t done. The big screen at the edge of the field flickered just as the teams were lining up again. Then it went black, the whole stadium murmuring in confusion.

And then—

There they were.

Ethan and Jaxon. On the screen. Wearing high heels. And short, glittery dresses. Wigs perched crookedly on their heads. Their faces were covered in smudged makeup. And they were dancing. To “I’m a Barbie Girl.”

The audience roared.

Ethan and Jaxon spun in circles, lip-syncing dramatically, hands on hips as they pranced and preened.

I bit my lip so hard trying not to laugh that tears filled my eyes anyway. When the video ended, the stadium burst into applause mixed with cackles of disbelief. Ethan stormed over to me the second the whistle blew.

“What the hell was that, Avery?” he snapped, grabbing my arm. “You think this is funny? Do you have any idea how embarrassing you’ve been lately?”

I yanked my arm free. “Oh, I don’t know,” I shot back, my voice sweet. “You tell me. Do you feel humiliated? Overshadowed? Like no one sees you for who you really are?”

His jaw tightened, but before he could answer, Jaxon strolled up behind him. And even though he wore his usual calm expression, there was something in the way he looked at me—something dangerous—that made my breath catch.

“Well,” he said, his voice low, almost amused, “you’ve got guts, Quinn. I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, never thought she had it in her.” Ethan grumbled at him， then roughly rubbed my hair, ignoring my protest..

“Of all the ways you could’ve gotten back at her,” Jaxon added, a faint smirk curving his lips, “you chose to humiliate me, too?”

“You deserved it,” I replied, tilting my chin up. “Both of you.”

And that was how the three of us ended up sitting side by side in detention an hour later.

The silence in the empty classroom was deafening. Ethan sat stiffly in his chair, arms crossed, his knee bouncing impatiently as he glared at me.

“You’re unbelievable, sis,” he muttered. He never calls me sis! Not even at home! I gaped at him.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, leaning back in my seat as cool as possible.

His eyes narrowed. “You made me look like an idiot in front of the entire school.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh no, not your precious reputation. How will you ever recover?”

“All I’m saying,” Jaxon drawled, “is that it was… creative.”

I tried not to let my lips twitch into a smile.

“You think this is funny?” Ethan demanded. Jaxon finally looked at him, his calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the faintest hint of amusement.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “I kinda do.”

Ethan groaned, burying his face in his hands. But I swear I saw a faint smile.

Meanwhile, my heart was beating far too fast for comfort. Jaxon leaned back in his chair again, his eyes drifting back to me.

And this time… there was nothing casual about the way he looked at me.

The air between us felt heavier somehow, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away, but I could still feel his gaze on my skin, like a phantom touch.

“Stop staring at me,” I muttered under my breath.

“I’m not,” he murmured back, his voice low enough that Ethan didn’t hear. “You’re imagining it.”

But when I risked another glance at him, he was smirking.

The tension between us hung there, thick and unspoken, as Ethan kept muttering insults under his breath about how “immature” and “pathetic” I was.

But Jaxon…

Jaxon’s knee brushed mine under the table once. Whether it was accidental or not, he didn’t pull away.

And neither did I.

When detention finally ended, I gathered my things quickly, eager to escape before either of them could say anything else. But just as I stepped into the hallway, a folded note slipped into my hand. I turned it over, my name scrawled across the front in sharp, feminine handwriting.

Meet me. Tonight. I didn’t need to open it to know who it was from.

Savannah